‘I am sorry to hear of your misfortunes. “Hello, Vee!” he said. ” “That is provokingly indefinite,” he answered, a little ruefully. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. I'll call it my wedding gift. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already.
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